


Why I Fell In Love with Frank Castle

by castledfranks



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, POV Karen Page, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castledfranks/pseuds/castledfranks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, Karen did not need to be struggling with feelings for Frank Castle. But somehow, there she was: staring at a blank Word document, replaying every last moment she’d had with him over and over again in her mind until she damn near lost it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback, criticism or praise. Everything is always appreciated and will help me shape future stories :)

Karen tapped the keys on her keyboard repeatedly before finally blowing out a puff of air and collapsing on her desk. It was really no use: she couldn’t concentrate on her latest assignment when all that was on her mind was him.

Frank Castle. The Punisher. But she refused to call him that.

He was Frank Castle, and he was one hell of a pain in her ass. How could she have possibly gotten so caught up in such a complicated man? Like she really needed more danger, more worry, more heartache. 

Why couldn’t she just make it work with Matt?

_Because you know you can only really be yourself when you’re around Frank._

She knew that statement was accurate, but dammit, it was so messy. **He was so messy.** Not to mention a fugitive from the law that half Hell’s Kitchen has dubbed a psychotic serial killer and the other half a hero.

No, Karen did not need to be struggling with feelings for Frank Castle. But somehow, there she was: staring at a blank Word document, replaying every last moment she’d had with him over and over again in her mind until she damn near lost it.

She winced and held back a whimper, running her hands over her face - half in agony, half in disbelief. How the hell did she even get here? 

It all came back to that moment in the diner, the one where they sat across from each other, talking like they’d known each other for years, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And when he smiled, Karen swore she saw into his soul the piece of himself that he kept locked away. Because he wasn’t supposed to have any humanity left.

But that moment, when he told her in no uncertain terms to hold on to the people you care about, hold on to the people who have the ability to drive you crazy because those are the people who matter, the people you love.

Yeah, that was the moment she knew all bets were off. That was when she realized just what she was looking at. And she cursed herself every day since because she couldn’t get through to him, couldn’t make him realize that he still deserved to be loved.

Instead he pushed her away. Told her he couldn’t be around her anymore because he was too bad of news and she was too good for him. How cliché. She was fighting for a forbidden romance, one where the man she desired kept her at arms length because he didn’t want his darkness to touch her. Yet he still lurked in the shadows, watched over her and brought hell down on anyone who tried to harm her. He was like a guardian and avenging angel all wrapped into one. But he was unattainable, because he wouldn’t let her get close.

But damn if he didn’t need to hear what she had to say. He needed to know how she felt because if she kept it inside any longer, she’d burst. She needed to cleanse herself of these emotions so she could get some work done; you know… earn that paycheck. Move on with her life. The question was: how in the world would she reach him if he refused to see her?

Karen picked her head up and stared at her blank Word document again. She sported half a smile as the notion dawned on her. She knew he started every morning with a cup of coffee and a copy of The Bulletin.

She sipped what was left of her ice-cold morning coffee and began typing.

Yeah. She knew exactly how she’d get him to listen.


	2. The Declaration

Frank ducked into the alley on 53rd street and trotted towards the corner deli. Owned by a middle-aged Middle Eastern gentleman, the bodega made – in Frank’s opinion – the best damn coffee on earth. That’s why it was the only place he’d show his face, the only place he trusted to keep his identity quiet.

As soon as he pushed the door opened, Mr. Basara placed a piping hot cup on top of the day’s Bulletin and smiled, just as he always did. But there was something about today’s smile that threw Frank for a loop. Mr. Basara almost seemed like he’d been swooning. 

Frank quietly paid and tipped his hat before retreating outside to the single table that sat on the quiet side of the building. The umbrella provided much needed shade on a sweltering morning and Frank was thankful for it; always having to wear a ball cap made his head sweat more than he remembered doing in the Afghan desert.

He took a long sip of the Sumatra brew and picked up the paper, noticing for the first time that Basara had dog-earred a page towards the back.

And he knew Frank never read the back.

 

_Letter to the People.  
Karen Page._

_It’s no secret that Hell’s Kitchen has seen more than her share of hard times over the last year._

_She wept with us each time a life ended, no matter who that life may have been. She trembled alongside us as the Cartel ran drugs through her middle schools. When the corruption of our city government was exposed, she stood tall beside the afflicted in search of justice. And when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen arrived, she secretly cheered him on, just like each and every one of us – regardless of whether we want to admit it or not._

_It’s true; we needed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. He provided comfort and safety when our police force couldn’t. He kick-started the effort to clean up our streets, make it safer for us to walk home at night. But even with all the good he’s done, crime is still at an all-time high._

_Enter Frank Castle, or The Punisher as many of you so aptly describe him._

_Sure his methods are barbaric. He’s violent and unapologetic. But he’s what this city needs if we ever want to sleep peacefully at night._

_The DA’s office has painted quite the picture of Frank – who he is as a man. “He’s vicious and needs to be put down.” “He has no respect or regard for human life.” “He will kill anyone that gets in his way, no matter their guilt or innocence.”_

_I’m here to tell you: they are wrong._

_Frank is a broken man. He watched his family get gunned down in the park, casualties of a terrible mistake by the District Attorney’s office. His two young children caught in the crossfire as Frank sat only feet away, unable to help, with a bullet in his skull._

_He survived, rose from the ashes like a phoenix, and vowed to right the wrong done to his and so many others’ families._

_He recognized the problem with Hell’s Kitchen. Corruption lurked behind every corner; who could he rely on for justice when the very people upholding the law were responsible for the biggest injustice of all? And so he sought another way, to protect all the Castle families out there who were powerless to avenge the deaths of their loved ones – the families plagued by the violent gangs that all but ran our streets._

_Sure, Frank Castle may have lost his way in the eyes of some, but to me his mission is clear and righteous: punish the wicked, protect the pure. He’s never spilt a drop of innocent blood, and I can attest to it because I’ve seen him in action._

_Frank Castle saved my life – on multiple occasions, even when it was a detriment to his own. He watches over me from the comfort of the shadows, just as he does for all of you. He single-handedly took down a heroin operation, ended the reign of the drug lord known as The Blacksmith, and nearly died in the process._

_That is Frank Castle._

_He’s a little twisted, but he’s selfless. He cares about this city, whether he’ll ever admit it or not. And he’s a hero. He would give his life for the people of Hell’s Kitchen if it meant taking down every threat to our community._

_Know the real Frank Castle. The Punisher. Our savior. My savior._

_He is the man who used himself as a human shield when a gunman shot up my apartment. He is the man who explained to me what it means to really love someone with your whole heart. He is the man who wouldn’t judge me for the skeletons in my closet. He is the only man I can be myself with, and the only one I feel safe with._

_And that’s why I fell in love with Frank Castle._

 

Frank put the paper down and stared silently at nothing in front of him for several minutes while he processed what he’d just read. His elbows came to the table, his fingers laced through one another and he rested his chin atop his fist. His eyes shut, and his mind flooded with visions of Karen’s smile almost instantly.

He cussed and pounded his fist down on the table, startling the customers exiting the deli. When he caught a glimpse at Mr. Basara, the tiny man was grinning ear to ear, flicking his hands in a gesture that told him to go.

Damn that Karen Page.

With a quick shake of his head, he adjusted the brim of his ball cap, threw some cash down on the table and swiftly walked off.


End file.
